You're Not A Witch, Are You?
by RandomFanatic
Summary: The boy peaked at him, surprised, with one big blue eye. He pressed himself farther under the bush, away from Prussia. "Y-you're not a witch, are you?" he asked in a small voice. Prussia was about to be offended when the wind blew through the caves again, and the boy cried out with fright, hiding his face under the cloak again. Prussia finds a small Germany in the woods.


Prussia didn't think himself to be the brotherly type. He had been raised among two other nations, Austria and Switzerland, by their father Germania, but he didn't consider them his brothers. Nation families didn't work like humans', anyway.

So when Germania came to his home one day, talking about a 'little brother' of some sort, Prussia pretty much discarded that. No way anyone would trust _him_ with a child.

He didn't think of it again for a while.

Until he was walking about a village near the border of Austrio-Hungary. It was an awkward border, at which it went right through a large village, a short and narrow path connecting the two sides of it. Looking through the clearing of this connecting path, Prussia could see Hungary talking with some of her villagers.

He was nodding at whatever the man was saying, and looking up, he seems to spot Prussia. He waved at Prussia, meaning to beckon him over. The humans continued on with their business.

"What is it?"

"Those men were just telling me they had heard some strange howling and screaming in the woods up near your place. They thought it might be wolves. Or gulons. I thought you might want to know, maybe go check it out."

"I see. Thank you."

Hungary turned and made his way toward his beer hall there in town, waving as he went.

Ah, yes. Hungary was such a sociable neighbor to have.

It looked like it was going to be a stormy night. If Prussia was going to go check out the strange noises, he'd better get going. He had a sword and several daggers on his person if he encountered a wild animal.

He made his way cautiously through the woods, stepping over logs and bending under branches, trying not to make a sound. It was raining quietly, raindrops dripping from the needles on the trees above him.

The wind picked up and howled through the caves on the mountains above. Prussia was halfway through thinking that this was perhaps the howling the Hungarians had heard, when a piercing scream filled the air. It sounded like a small child.

Prussia didn't think before running toward the scream. He searched the woods quickly, keeping his eye out for anything unusual.

Another gust of wind forced a howl from the caves overhead, and a whimpering came from a bush near Prussia's right. Prussia furrowed his brow. Should he look to see what it is?

Of course he should; he is the awesome Prussia!

Prussia edged around the bush, keeping a safe distance, with a hand on his sword's handle. Sure, it had sounded like a child screaming, but there are many things in the forest, and Prussia knows better than to trust blindly in nature.

Huddled under the bush was a small boy. He was curled up in a green cloak, his face hidden in the cloth. He was trembling.

"Hello?" Prussia ventured, keeping a distance from the child.

The boy peaked at him, surprised, with one big blue eye. He pressed himself farther under the bush, away from Prussia.

"Y-you're not a witch, are you?" he asked in a small voice.

Prussia was about to be offended when the wind blew through the caves again, and the boy cried out with fright, hiding his face under the cloak again.

Prussia just looked at the boy for a moment before deciding on what to do. He gasped theatrically and audibly, drawing the boy's face back out from under the cloak as he watched Prussia curiously. "There are witches here, aren't there? Well, I have my trusty sword here, and they won't dare come near you when I'm here!" he stated, hopefully encouraging to the little boy, as he unsheathed his blade.

The boy stared at the blade in awe, his eyes growing even bigger.

"Now, little boy, what is your name? Where do you live? I'm sure your mother is very worried about you."

The boy seemed to ignore him, crawling out from under the bush and continuing to gawk at the sword.

"You must be a soldier! You have a sword and a cape and a hat and everything! That is so cool!" the boy gushed.

"Well, not exactly…"

"I want to be a soldier when I grow up. I want to go to war and fight!"

"Well, kid, it's not exactly all fun and—"

The wind screeched again, and he fell to the ground with a scream, grabbing his cloak to shield his face once again.

"No, no wait. It's okay, I'm here. Those witches won't dare harm you with me here. Now tell me, what is your name? Where is your mother?" He helped the boy back to his feet. He was a local, obviously telling by his blond hair and blue eyes.

"I… I don't have a mother, I don't think." The boy seemed to ponder this for a moment before looking up at Prussia and shaking his head with a grin.

"What? Well, in that case… where is your father, perhaps?"

"I don't have one of those either."

Prussia tilted his head. The little boy mimicked him, tilting his head the opposite way.

Wait.

"Well, what is your name, then?"

"They call me Germany."

Oh. That is not a human name.

"Well, Germany, you're not my little brother, are you?"

"Little brother? Yours? Does that mean you're my big brother?"

"Yes, I guess so."

Prussia smiled, and was about to re-sheath his sword when a particularly nasty gust swept through the mountains, creating the most terrible wailing yet. Germany yelped and clutched Prussia's leg. Prussia patted him lightly on the head.

"You can come home with me, now. Do you want me to carry you?"

Germany nodded silently.

—

Germany played a lot as a child. Prussia would go to meetings with his boss and come home to find Bayer, their Bavarian Mountain Hound, lying calmly on the ground as Germany pulled grass up and piled it on top of him. Bayer would lazily look over at Prussia, and then Germany would look up, giggle, and run off, calling that Prussia 'couldn't catch him'. Prussia would grin, throw down his big hat and loosening his cravat as he ran after the little boy.

Germany was clever, and he knew how to turn in order to throw Prussia off balance. Eventually, he grabbed Germany around the middle, picked up briefly before setting him back on the ground, on his back.

"Don't tickle me!" he cried, squirming and giggling.

"What was that? I can't hear you!" Prussia grinned, tickling his little brother remorselessly. Whatever the brat said, he really did like being tickled.

Germany wriggled away and ran off again, and Prussia gave him a head start before taking off after him. Bayer even got up and ran beside him lazily.

While Prussia was watching the dog to make sure it wouldn't trip him up, he lost sight of Germany. But how could that have happened?

He ran around the corner of his cottage. There Germany stood, at the edge of the forest, staring up at the big trees.

"Germany? Are you okay?" Prussia asked when Germany didn't move to run when he saw Prussia coming.

Prussia hunched down to Germany's level. "Luddy?" He didn't respond, just stared up at the towering trees. "Hey, let's go have dinner, alright?" Prussia insisted, touching his shoulder gently. Germany nodded absently, still not looking at Prussia.

Prussia stood and took Germany's hand, leading him away from the forest.

—

Eventually, Prussia knew he would have to leave Germany alone when he went off to fight battles.

"I'll be back in a few weeks, alright? You've got Bayer and Liebling to keep you company and you can send a messenger to fetch me if anything happens. You know that, right?"

Germany nodded. He was upset about the whole ordeal. Prussia felt bad about it, but there wasn't much he could do. He had to go fight. It was sort of his thing.

Germany stood between the two big dogs, who sat obediently, and the three watched Prussia ride away, into the forest.

—

The first week went by without a hitch. Germany took the dogs with him as he fetched some water from the well, and a girl from a nearby village was commissioned to bring him food. He sat outside the cottage on the green grass and tied blades of it together. The dogs kept near him.

The second week came and went, and Germany noticed that Liebling, the two year old German Shepherd, would occasionally run into the forest, presumably going after a rabbit or something.

It was in the third week that the weather took a turn for the worse. It rained, and then it snowed, and Germany stayed indoors. Occasionally he'd have to take the dogs out, but he always stayed right near the door. He had a fire going inside all day now, and the girl who brought him food now had a boy coming with her, bringing firewood.

Germany would bundle up in front of the fire, dogs laying their heads on his lap or knee, and wonder what his brother was doing. He hoped his brother wasn't cold, outside in this weather. That would make fighting so very dreadful, Germany thought.

When the dogs had to go out, they would sit by the door and wait for Germany to open it for them.

Tonight, Liebling sat by the door anxiously. Germany would let her out and she would run around, but he would bring her back in very quickly.

"Come on girl, time to go back inside," he would call, and she would come, if not somewhat disappointedly. And then she would sit back by the door.

After the first three times or so, Germany started ignoring her. Then she started whining. Germany told her to knock it off. She started barking.

He begrudgingly left his warm blankets in front of the fire to let her out one more time. Slipping his boots on, he opened the door, but before he could stop her Liebling was already dashing past him, into the snow and away from the house.

"Liebling! Come back!" She was heading toward the forest. Within a few moments she had disappeared into the trees.

"Liebling! Come here, girl! Come back! Liebling!" He ran after her. He didn't think twice, chasing after her into the forest. "Liebling!"

—

One hundred and fifty miles to the northeast, Prussia sat between his fire and his tent. He clutched his cloak around him, trying to keep warm. His commanders sat around the fire as well, discussing their strategies for the coming battles. Prussia stared down at his hands, his eyes burning from long hours in front of the bright fire.

It was raining and windy, and Prussia could hear branches crashing to the ground in the forest surrounding them.

The commanders fell silent after some poignant statement that Prussia had missed. He wasn't paying much attention.

Suddenly, he looked up at the other tents surrounding his. All of his army was camping in the small clearing the forest.

Something didn't feel right.

There were no signs of trouble—no men calling comrades to arms, no increase in the crackling of fire.

"What is it, Mr. Prussia?" someone ventured to ask.

He shook his head. It was nothing, nothing was wrong. But the feeling of trouble wasn't going away.

"Sir?"

Prussia shook his head again. "It is nothing, don't mind me."

The commander nodded cautiously. It was getting late, and the commanders began to trickle back to their own tents, and Prussia settled down to sleep.

But just as he was beginning to drift, the reason behind the feeling of danger became clear.

"Germany."

—

Prussia told his first commander that he'd be back in a week. He gave no explanation, and none was asked for.

It was a ten hour trip on horseback to his cottage. Giving his horse rest every hour and a half or so added to the time significantly.

When he arrived in the clearing in which their cottage stood, he jumped off the horse and tied it to a post quickly. He rounded the house to where the door was, to find it wide open.

_Oh no._

He ran into the house, and found the room cold and dark. The fire had gone out long ago. The wind screamed through the mountain caves in the distance.

_No. _

He ran back outside. "Germany! Germany!" he called into the woods. Silence.

There was no sign of the dogs, either. "Bayer! Liebling! Germany!"

He waited for a response, but none came.

"Germany!" He had to search the forest. But where could he start? Germany had not been here for at least a day. He could be far, far away by now. Or worse. The caves screeched once again.

"Germany," he cried out once more. The wind picked up his screams and carried them away.

There was a rustling in the bushes then, right near the edge of the woods. Prussia braced himself, hand on the hilt of his sword, not knowing what it could be.

Out came Bayer, panting and wagging his tail as he jumped around Prussia, rubbing against his legs.

"Bayer? Bayer, cut it out. Where is Germany?" Prussia asked, scratching the dog on its' head absently.

The dog looked up at him purposefully, and seemed to understand what Prussia was asking. He ventured back into woods, and Prussia tried to keep up.

He ran along the roots of the huge trees, and led Prussia to a part of the forest he had never been in before.

Over the wind he couldn't hear anything, except for the swirling of leaves and the crunch of branches and the creak of trees.

Bayer nudged Prussia's calf, urging him further, before running toward the hole by a fallen tree's roots. Prussia cautiously peeked over the large mound created by the uprooting, to find Germany, curled up into a ball with his face buried in Liebling's fur. He was shaking.

"Germany!" Prussia cried over the wind, and Germany peeked up at him. He was pale except for his cheeks, which were rubbed red from either the rain and wind or crying. Perhaps both, as his eyes shone with tears.

Prussia climbed down into the hole and took Germany in his arms. "It's okay Ludwig. It's okay."

The caves wailed, and Germany screamed.

"Sh, shh. It's okay now. I've got you. No witches are going to hurt you. We need to go back home, though."

Prussia carried the trembling Germany home, guided by the dogs.

From that day on, Prussia didn't know what had happened to Germany in the woods, but he was not as playful. He sat and watched the forest on calm days, and stayed tucked up inside on the stormy ones. He did not smile.

Before that day, Germany had been afraid of spiders. Germany had not liked the dark. Germany had hated the forest.

After that day, Germany killed spiders, forced himself to brave the dark alone, and even walked through the very edge of the forest in day time when it was sunny, which was more than he had ever done before.

Germany refused to be afraid of anything short of a stormy forest. He refused to let himself be a child anymore. He would not allow himself to be afraid. He still did not walk those forest paths, though.

—

(bonus:)

That is, until Italy came along. By that time, Prussia was no longer really a nation. He hung around the house and did as he pleased, but Germany took care of everything. He had cultivated part of the area between the door and the forest's edge into a garden (the garden stopped about twenty feet short of the forest's edge) and Italy came to visit every so often.

Italy was fascinated by the large, ancient trees in the forests, and always said how he would love to go for a walk through them. Germany would nod, and never offer to go with him.

Until one day, when Italy sighed longingly and stared up at the trees hovering over the garden as Germany worked.

"I bet it's so cool under those trees."

Germany didn't pause as he patted down the new soil around his plants.

Italy sighed once again, theatrically.

Germany side glanced at him, and rolled his eyes.

"Do you _really_ want to go?" he asked.

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes!"

"Really?"

"Yes!"

Germany paused. "Fine."

"Really?"

"Fine."

"Yippee! Thank you! Let's go!" Italy stood, pulling Germany to his feet and starting toward the edge of the forest.

"Not yet, one moment. I need to change out of my gardening clothes."

"Oh, yeah I guess so."

They went back to the cottage. Prussia was sitting on the couch with the dogs, flipping through a magazine when they came in. Germany changed in his own room, as Italy pulled his jacket on.

Germany returned quickly, pulling on his boots and jacket as well. "I'm taking Liebling, alright Gilbert?"

"Uh, what? Where are you going?" Prussia asked, eyeing the two suspiciously.

"Germany has finally agreed to walk through the first with me! Exciting, right?"

"What? Really? Are you sure, Luddy?" Prussia asked.

Germany rolled his eyes, though he understood where his brother's concern came from. "Yes, I'm sure."

Germany put Liebling on a leash, and the two of them disembarked. Prussia waited until they were certainly gone to bring Bayer and go sit outside on the back porch. Not that he was doing so out of concern for Germany (but this way if anything _did_ happen, he would be able to help right away).

They were gone for a long time, Prussia thought. He was starting to worry, in fact. He was about to go after them, into the forest, when they reemerged. Liebling yipped happily at seeing Prussia and Bayer, and Germany unhooked her leash to let her run. Italy practically skipped, obviously still very fascinated about the trees, and Germany was smiling.

Germany was smiling.

_Germany. He was smiling._

Prussia couldn't help but mimic that smile.


End file.
